


Mathematical Harmony

by danythunder



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom!Aziraphale, Greek Food, M/M, Sex Toys, Wings, absolutely shameless smut, aziraphale is equally as horny but doesnt know what to do with it, crowley is just a horny bastard, look I have a wing kink we all have a wing kink its fine, no betas we fall like angels, the author is a little obsessed with ouzo, top!Crowley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danythunder/pseuds/danythunder
Summary: Aziraphale calls for Crowley on the celestial plane, Crowley learns that invoking Enochian causes resonant frequencies. Crowley answers the call by appearing in Aziraphale’s bedroom to find the angel absolutely dripping with Lust. Aziraphale has discovered sex toys and is trying one out on himself, and he apparently can’t control his metaphysical reactions. Wings and fluff ensue.





	1. Like Pythagoras Said

The first time it happened, Crowley was sure it was an accident. His name whispered across the celestial plane and ruffled the feathers of his hidden wings, accompanied by a wash of Love. He shivered as he straightened his back and snapped his fingers, air sucking into the place he once sprawled across his couch and flexing as he appeared standing between shelves of the bookstore instead. Crowley tasted no danger as his forked tongue tested the air, and his scrunched shoulders relaxed just a smidge. “Angel?” he called out, not waiting for a reply before striding deeper into the store. He heard no immediate response but noted the closed blinds filtering sunlight through the door, the sign flipped so that it read closed to potential customers. 

Crowley turned his head as muffled footsteps hurried above his head and his long legs crossed the distance to the stairs quickly. As his eyes cleared the top step and slitted pupils adjusted to the bright wash of sunlight in Aziraphale’s apartment he found himself smirking. The air of the apartment was thick with Lust and Love, and Crowley spun around to see the door of Aziraphale’s bedroom shut with a slam. “Angel,” murmured Crowley as his long fingers closed around the doorknob, but he yelped as his palm made contact with the door and a small shock travelled up his arm. A high pitch, wavery voice filtered through the door, “I’m sorry, dear, I’m not feeling well today!” Crowley crooked one eyebrow and responded, “Anything I can help with?” He felt Aziraphale’s heart rate pick up and the thick atmosphere of Lust and Love almost doubled, Crowley felt giddy with it. He had his suspicions for the past couple of decades, but this was something far more interesting!

“No, no, I’m sure of it – just, ah, a cold,” Aziraphale stuttered, his voice rising on the last word to make the sentence sound like a question. Crowley’s eyebrow rose another inch, “Well if you’re cold, angel, let me in. I’m ssssure I can help.” His slip in composure surprised himself and he knew Aziraphale heard his tongue betray him, Crowley cursed mentally. The doorknob briefly glowed as celestial power flexed through it, but Aziraphale was strengthening the bind, not breaking it. “That’s quite unnecessary, I’ll manage, thank you very much,” came the prim reply, punctured by a rustling that was somewhere between feathers and movement on silk sheets. Crowley pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels, biting his serpentine tongue to remind himself not to stretch his words. “If you’re sure. Call me if you need anything,” Crowley purred, putting an unnecessary amount of emphasis on the word ‘anything’ before taking a few steps away from the door. He snapped his fingers, pushing a box of tea and a quart of Aziraphale’s favorite soup onto the counter of the kitchen. “I’m leaving you a gift, angel, call me when you feel better and lunch is on me.” That brought a hasty noise of agreement from Aziraphale’s bedroom, the smell of Lust fading but the sticky haze of Love swirling around Crowley as he took the stairs two at a time.

Aziraphale called four excruciating days later, as Crowley was angrily misting a zebra stripes hosta. He nearly flung the spray bottle across the room and scooped up his phone, smiling in relief at the picture of Aziraphale holding a flute of champagne onscreen as it rang. He smoothed his voice as he answered, “Good morning, angel.” Aziraphale chirped a greeting and awkwardly paused before asking, “So did you have a place in mind for lunch?” Crowley had already scoped out a new Mediterranean place in SoHo and hummed agreement, waiting for Aziraphale to respond. “Well, I suppose I must know where it is then,” came the huffy reply and Crowley let his smirk filter into his voice, “I’ll pick you up at a quarter till.” Aziraphale’s protest was cut off as Crowley tossed his phone onto the counter, turning to head towards his scarcely used bedroom. He scooped up his favorite jeans and blazer from a chair and frowned, dropping the blazer to the floor and shimmying into the skintight jeans. Crowley never wore clothes around his apartment, instead preferring to keep the place at a balmy temperature for comfort. Shrugging into a deep green sweater, he snapped his shoes on and raised an eyebrow at himself in his mirror. His hair was wrecked from the four days he had spent sprawled on his couch so he quickly ran his fingers through to miracle it into order, then snatched his sunglasses from their spot on his nightstand. Crowley strode down his stairs and slithered into the front seat of the Bentley, feeling a twinge of apprehension at wearing something so close to casual clothing. He hoped it would have the desired effect on Aziraphale. 

The Bentley screeched to a halt outside of the bookstore, barely avoiding the sidewalk of the corner. Aziraphale opened the door immediately, beaming as he flipped the open sign around and stepped out into the daylight. Crowley felt his ears flush as he remembered the scent of desire that had filled the upstairs apartment only a few days ago and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Aziraphale’s warm greeting broke his thoughts as the passenger door opened and Crowley plastered a look of unruffled coolness on his face. “I apologize for not calling sooner, dear, I was feeling very out of sorts. I did appreciate the gifts you left, that soup was positively scrumptious!” continued the angel as he settled into the leather seat to reach for the seatbelt, and Crowley stomped on the gas to avoid having to reply immediately. 

The Mediterranean place was suspiciously empty for a hip new restaurant at noon. Aziraphale did not seem to notice and Crowley relaxed into the booth, sprawling his legs under the table so they could tangle with the angel’s if Aziraphale uncrossed his ankles. Which he would probably not do, but Crowley still thought it was worth the effort. Speaking of efforts, he was slightly disappointed his angel didn't notice his attempt at being more comfortable, then cursed himself for being so foolish. He idly wondered if Aziraphale had made an Effort today, then shook his head to banish the thought. Aziraphale paused in his small talk, lips pursing as his brow furrowed, “No to what, dear?” Crowley grimaced and was grateful for the interruption of their waiter. 

Aziraphale brightened as the waiter informed them it was happy hour and all beverages were half price, including the special family recipe ouzo. Crowley barely paid attention to what Aziraphale ordered and waved his hand when the attention turned to him, “One of whatever he’s having.” The waiter nodded and disappeared behind the bar. Aziraphale sipped his water as he turned around, appreciating the modest interior of the restaurant. Crowley pretended to scroll on his phone.

The waiter returned with two bright red drinks, glass clinking as he placed them on the table. Aziraphale swallowed a small mouthful and his eyes closed in pleasure, leaving Crowley to order their food. He ordered a mixed appetizer plate and two entrees, well aware that Aziraphale would scold him for any leftovers, but he loved watching the angel sample from all of the plates on the table. The waiter ducked his head and disappeared somewhere further in the back, leaving the pair to their awkward conversation above modern Greek pop music. 

Aziraphale made some mention of the weather over the past few days and Crowley muttered noncommittally, not having been outside much himself. Aziraphale paused to sip his ‘ouzotini’ before pressing on, “What did you do if not leave your flat?” Crowley shrugged and replied in a voice that was far too casual, “Some self-care.” The angel blinked, sitting back to consider that, “What on Earth does a demon do for self-care?” Crowley swirled the red liquid in his glass and tossed it back all at once. “The usual things to relieve stress. I’m sure you’ve tried it from time to time,” Crowley trailed off, leaving his response somewhere between a statement and a question, hoping the angel would offer some witty banter. Instead, the angel turned the color of his drink and busied himself with flagging down the waiter to fetch them both another round.

Crowley felt the smirk creeping onto his lips but forced his face to cooperate, it wouldn’t do to make fun of Aziraphale like this. Perhaps a different approach was needed. The waiter appeared as though willed and spirited their empty glasses away with promises of more. The food arrived with their second drinks, which distracted Aziraphale quite nicely. Crowley stretched and let his long legs wander further under the table, shoving his hand into his short hair to ruffle it back. He had always wondered about Aziraphale’s affair with food and had an experiment in his back pocket for a moment just like this. “This smells divine, angel,” he let his mouth curve into a tempting smile, “Just like Heaven.” 

Crowley leaned forward and picked up an olive, letting his tongue slide out of his mouth to catch it from his fingers. He sucked the meat off of the pit of the olive and moaned, letting the flavor roll across his tongue instead of sucking food down like he typically did. Across the table, Aziraphale was frozen in a doe-eyed stare at the display. Crowley then stuck his pinky finger into the dish of tzatziki and brought it back to his mouth, lips making a satisfying popping noise as he cleaned the dip off the pad of his finger. Aziraphale shifted nervously and tossed back his own drink, “Dear, I have never seen you enjoy food this much, is everything all right?” 

Crowley let his foot slot next to Aziraphale’s under the table as he leaned forward to pluck up another olive, then continued leaning in to press it against Aziraphale’s lips. "Everything is perfect, I just want to savor the taste." This was the angel’s undoing and he flushed a lovely shade of pink as he grasped at the stem of his drink, which was unfortunately empty. “I, um, forgot to lock the shop,” Aziraphale gasped and Crowley pulled back, afraid that he had gone too far, when the angel disappeared with a small pop.

The demon slumped back into his own seat, his stomach feeling cold and empty. The waiter returned with a curious look and Crowley tossed him a bill an order of magnitude more than the ticket. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he slunk out of the restaurant, eyes almost watering behind his sunglasses. It would be more than four days before the angel called him again, he was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry it gets filthy


	2. Frequency Ratios

Crowley had barely made it back to the Bentley when he felt the roll of emotions across his hidden wings and his own name rung out in harmonies echoed by every wind chime and bell in the vicinity. He felt himself being tugged at his celestial fabric and turned into the source, disappearing with a crackle only to reappear between familiar bookshelves. He took the stairs two at a time to the flat above and this time, the door to Aziraphale’s bedroom was wide open.

Crowley strode forwards as soon as his feet cleared the pile of clothing on the floor, tongue flicking out in anticipation. The atmosphere was choked with Lust and Love again, the heady mixture going straight to the heat in his lower belly and he curled his fingers. The curtains were halfway drawn around the four poster bed but the opal wings that twitched weakly on the floor were a giveaway for the angel’s position. Crowley’s hands pushed back the offending fabric as he reached the bed and he slammed into an invisible wall at the positively indecent scene before him. He felt his throat trying to work out a sound as his cock throbbed, but he could only stare. 

Aziraphale’s ass was raised in the air as he pushed back into his knees with his face buried in a pillow. His wings sprawled off the sides of the bed from the accentuated joints between his shoulder blades, almost obscuring the hands that were clenching his sheets. Aziraphale’s breath came in short pants cut through with shivering moans, but Crowley barely heard it through the rush in his ears. A black toy bounced with every convulsion of Aziraphale’s wings, buried in the heat of the angel. Below the wide handle of the toy, a short but thick cock twitched and dribbled onto the sheets, into an obviously fresh pool of cum between the angel’s spread knees. 

“Ngk,” choked Crowley, his vocal cords and brain finally giving up on producing anything more coherent. Sound came back in a flood, Aziraphale’s breath catching as he scrambled up the bed and swept his wings in, cocooning his sinfully delicious body. Aziraphale made a broken noise as he realized that Crowley was still holding back the fabric between the posts of the bed, and Crowley was on his knees on the bed beside Aziraphale before he thought better of it. His cold fingers brushed over heated skin as Crowley reached for Aziraphale’s wing joint, the preening gland slick with arousal. The angel shuddered beneath the touch, overstimulated and embarrassed, “O-hh, dear, I am so sor-“ 

Crowley ripped off his sunglasses to reveal his wide pupils and he kept his gaze locked on equally large blue eyes as he kissed Aziraphale. He pulled back after Aziraphale relaxed into the kiss and his eyes fluttered closed. “You called me,” he whispered, not bothering to hide his amazement, “You Called for me.” Aziraphale flushed and his skin grew hotter beneath Crowley’s hand, still resting on the spot between his wings. Crowley reveled in the feeling of feathers between them and leaned back in for another kiss. 

“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” admitted the angel, sounding incredibly innocent for someone in the position he was in, “Never happened before.” Crowley felt like he had been slapped, “Before?” The angel squirmed under his hand and his feathers splayed to cover more of his skin, unable to meet Crowley’s piercing gaze. “May I, ahem,” Aziraphale coughed and covered his throat with his hand, “… Clean up?” Crowley smirked and tugged Aziraphale’s wrist away from his collarbones, “Angel, why on Earth would I want you to do that?” 

Aziraphale finally met his gaze again and paled a little bit under the intensity, Crowley could feel all of his questions boiling up. Instead, Crowley leaned forward and kissed him again, this time sliding his tongue along the angel’s parted lips. This drew a deep shiver from Aziraphale who moaned into the kiss. Crowley crept his hand down the back of his angel, feeling the muscles tense when he stopped at the base of the spine. “My dear,” panted Aziraphale as he broke the kiss, close to the reverence he had Called for the demon with earlier. “Have you ever done this?” murmured Crowley, pulling back to examine the face of his partner. 

Blushing to the tips of his ears, Aziraphale straightened his shoulders. “I’ve done this quite a bit,” the angel couldn’t meet Crowley’s eyes again, “By myself.” Crowley’s cock twitched at the thought of Aziraphale spread out like he was earlier, desperate for release after every dinner they had shared. He swallowed hard and pushed back his own avalanche of questions, pulling Aziraphale’s hips forward and leaning back in for a needy kiss. The iridescent white wings relaxed between them as Aziraphale let himself be pulled into the kiss and Crowley felt fingers rest hesitantly on his sides. He removed his hand from Aziraphale’s back to snap his fingers, his own clothing falling to the floor beside the bed. 

“Is this why you left lunch in such a hurry?” Crowley murmured into the angel’s ear, pushing his free hand between pearly feathers to feel Aziraphale’s heart stutter. “I’m sorry, dear, I couldn’t-“ Aziraphale squirmed as Crowley slowly traced down his chest, “I didn’t know what you were doing, if you were... Tempting me.” That made Crowley growl and he yanked the angel towards him, Aziraphale’s wings opened reflexively for balance and his thighs spread to slide alongside Crowley’s knees. Crowley wanted more contact than this position could afford so he rolled them over, Aziraphale flat on his back with Crowley between his open thighs. The angel looked absolutely ravishing but Crowley held back, panting. “Do you think that I’ve been hanging around all of this time, waiting so I could Tempt you over mediocre Mediterranean food?” he growled into Aziraphale’s neck and nipped the skin, drawing a startled cry from his partner. “No, no, well… Yes?” Aziraphale breathed, somewhere between aroused and confused. 

Crowley raised one eyebrow and bit down harder, rolling his hips down into the angel’s thigh, “So you think I’m this hard because I have never fantasized about you during one of those meals? You moan and sigh and wiggle, how do I know you weren’t Tempting me?” The angel looked positively scandalized at that, wings brushing against Crowley as he tried to cover himself again. Crowley wormed a hand beneath the angel and pressed two fingers into the wet preen gland between his shoulder blades, causing Aziraphale to arch up and moan loudly, wings twitching uselessly against the duvet. At that, Crowley raised both eyebrows and swept his fingers in a small circle in the same spot. “You do a damn good job of Tempting, angel, and you have no clue,” he whispered, watching Aziraphale’s bottom lip tremble, “How much I wanted to do this the first time I heard you like this.” 

Aziraphale stuttered under Crowley, “The first time? You weren’t, you just showed up, you know, after!” Crowley smirked and leaned down to kiss him before moving back to his neck, “The flat smelled like you had been at it all afternoon, like you had bathed in Lust and Love.” The angel flushed and opened his mouth, then thought better of it and shut it. “Maybe you had been,” speculated Crowley as one hand roamed down Aziraphale’s body, “Maybe you Called me on purpose.” Aziraphale’s voice cracked in the middle of a moan and he shook his head, eyes shut tightly. “I didn’t mean to, I thought you had just picked a particularly inopportune time to drop by, I was just trying it out,” he babbled as Crowley’s fingers spread across his hip. 

Crowley paused then purred, “Trying what out, angel?” Aziraphale opened his eyes, shamefully glancing down at the Effort that was growing hard again between them. Crowley cackled delightedly and let his hand behind Aziraphale’s back smooth down his spine again to cup his ass, “And this, angel, another first?” Crowley wrapped his hand around the handle of the black toy, tugging on it just enough for Aziraphale to shudder at the movement. “Yes,” the angel whimpered, “I thought it was similar to you, your, well.” Crowley rolled his hips down again slowly, dragging his cock against Aziraphale’s own. “Did you want it to be me?” the demon asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to bend the angel into admitting it.

Aziraphale took one shuddering breath and kissed Crowley, eyes flying open as Crowley began teasing the toy out of him. “Yes of course, I wanted it to be you, I want it to be you, I want you to f-“ the word cut off as Aziraphale covered his own mouth, eyes begging for something from Crowley. “I’m ssssorry angel, I missssed that part, you want me to what?” the demon was so close his words began to roll off of his tongue, but he was willing to do this until he heard the words from the angel himself. Crowley held the black toy at the widest point of the head inside of Aziraphale, relishing the choked noises the angel made from behind his fingers, “I want to hear you, love.” 

At the new pet name, Aziraphale whimpered and slowly pulled his hand away, “I want you to f- oh Heaven forgive me, I want you to fuck me, Crowley.” Yellow eyes dilated as Crowley slid the toy out of the angel and eased himself between soft thighs, his hand itching to move from hip to cock to make this beautiful creature come undone beneath him. The toy rolled off of the bed with a thump and snapping his fingers to miracle lube himself, Crowley pushed forward into the blissful heat of an angel, who leaned forward and kissed him. Aziraphale’s ass was still unbelievably tight, Crowley bit the other’s lip to keep himself at a reasonable pace, until he felt legs wrapping around his waist and ankles locking behind him. “Angel, I’m not going to lasssst like thissss,” he warned, one hand threading into a wing that shivered beside him and the other moving from Aziraphale’s hip to cup his cheek. 

The angel looked like he had already been fucked for hours, kicking another dent in Crowley’s willpower. Blue eyes flashed with something like pride, “My love, we have eternity.” Crowley groaned and let his lips fall to Aziraphale’s neck, worrying a bruise as he snapped his hips forward a few times. The room smelled like an intoxicating perfume and a strong wave of emotions washed over Crowley again, tugging at something deep inside his other body. “My love,” he panted, repeating Aziraphale’s words as he tried to move his hips to a rhythm. His own name harmonized with radiant Love spilled off of Aziraphale’s lips and echoed in a higher plane, kicking off another chorus of chimes and bells across the city. The body beneath Crowley seemed to burn, wings radiating something that should have hurt but instead tipped Crowley over the edge. His own wings involuntarily materialized, flexing once above him before crashing down to match Aziraphale’s below. 

In what little coherent thought was left in Crowley’s mind, he realized this was how angels mate, and he came with one final thrust into Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a slut but Crowley is too

**Author's Note:**

> heu heu heu find me on tumblr @ keeperofthesourcecode


End file.
